


Loss

by ambientwhispers



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambientwhispers/pseuds/ambientwhispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Fenris leaves Athena Hawke, she has an unexpected development and loss.</p><p>This is an edit of the anonymous kink meme fill I posted of the same name; mostly to change the protagonist from a generic female Hawke to being my Athena Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss

Athena rolled over in her bed in the Amell estate and threw an arm over her face. She started to grumble to herself about the accursed sunlight but halted as a strong and sudden wave of nausea hit her, and she barely threw herself over the chamber pot in time to lose the contents of her stomach.

 _That was odd,_ she thought to herself as she stood up to rinse her mouth and face, fighting another threatening wave of sickness.

She found she lacked an appetite for breakfast, although she managed to force down a slice of stale bread. The bread did little to suppress her queasiness, though it made the sensation a bit more tolerable.

“Nena, darling, are you all right?” Leandra said, reaching over to lay a hand upon Athena’s forehead.

“I’m fine, I just have a bit of an upset stomach.” Athena shrugged. “I think I ate something yesterday that disagreed with me. Don’t worry about it, Mother.”

She knew today would be a trying day. She had to face Fenris for the first time since he walked out of her mansion two and a half weeks earlier; it was not something she wished to do while she already dealt with this constant nausea. She sighed and willed herself to find the energy to face her day, dressing with the utmost care not to jostle herself too much.

The day turned out to be just as awkward and uncomfortable as she had anticipated. Fenris refused to speak to her unless necessary; this resulted in Anders being used as a relay. Negotiations between the Viscount and the Arishok were in their infancy, and Athena was the mediator; this stressed her enough without having the discomfort she dealt with already. She had to excuse herself multiple times to empty her stomach, and she could tell that Anders, at the least, grew worried.

“Hawke, are you all right? I’m sure we could convince the Viscount to let you give him the summary of the Arishok’s talk tomorrow.” Anders reached a hand out to her, and looked at her with an eyebrow arched when she retreated from the gesture.

“I think I just ate something bad yesterday. I’m sure it’ll pass,” Athena said as she waved off Anders’ pressing questions. Anders did not seem satisfied by that answer, but he did not press.

To her dismay, her discomfort and odd symptoms only grew worse in the coming weeks.

She realized one day that her breasts had grown sore and heavy, and each time she released an arrow, it sent shock waves of pain through them that made her want to weep. Running to find a better vantage point in battle made her grit her teeth, and she began to bind her chest with thicker cloth despite the sweltering heat of Kirkwall’s summer. Still she denied the truth, sure that she would be proven wrong any day now.

She next started to feel her energy draining away. Each day she awoke more exhausted than she had gone to sleep. It had started to affect her ability to assist the Kirkwall-Qunari relations, which concerned her. She struggled to keep up with her companions in the clearing of Kirkwall's streets at night and she fended off more questions from Anders and Sebastian with each battle's end that left her slumped over, using her bow to support her weight. She knew this could not continue, and one night she decided it was time to figure out if her hunch was correct, once and for all. Alone in her bed, she counted days on her fingers, and her blood ran cold.

She ran to Anders’ clinic as fast as her legs would carry her, her arms crossed across her chest in a way that lacked any semblance of subtlety. When she arrived, she burst through the doors, disregarding the late hour. “Anders! Anders, this is an emergency!”

* * *

The healer staggered from the small, closet-sized room his cot and a small desk were crammed in, pulling a rumpled tunic over his head as he did so. “Hawke? Why in the world would you be here at this hour?” He squinted his bleary eyes as he assessed her. “You don’t look injured...”

“I think I’m pregnant.” Athena said, blurting her words in a jumbled rush.

Anders’ half-lidded eyes snapped open. “You… you what? Who...”

“... Fenris. It must have been more than a month ago now. I... I haven’t had a cycle in two months, Anders. More than, in fact.”

“That’s why you two aren’t talking...” Anders mused, beckoning Athena to sit at the edge of an examination table. He held his hand out for a moment, his eyes questioning, and she nodded to grant permission. He placed his hand at the base of her torso, between her hips, and sent out a gentle probe of magic. He withdrew his hand as if he’d been burned, and he bit his lip.

“Hawke... I have some very bad news.”

For the second time that night, she felt her blood run cold. “What do you mean, Anders?”

Anders’ gaze fell downward, his unbound hair falling in front of his eyes. Without hesitation, he pulled Athena forward into a tight embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Hawke.”

Anders was her only confidante through the process of grief. When she refused to leave her bed for days, Anders was there. He reassured Leandra that she didn’t need to worry, he would handle Athena’s needs. Eventually, he started sleeping in a chair in her room instead of going back to the clinic each evening so that he could comfort her through her broken sobs in the middle of the night. He struggled to convince her to eat, and kept up a running commentary with her about the outside world.

Mentally, he cursed Fenris. How dare he abandon her in this, her greatest moment of need?

 _ **It must be that he does not know. No man could be this cruel knowingly.**_ Anders felt the thought that wasn’t altogether his own creep across his mind, and he sighed. She would share in her own time. Right now his job was to ensure she learned to cope with the loss.

He stayed by Athena’s side for weeks, then months, then a year. She still turned to him for her emotional stability, and he was only too happy to provide it. When her mother was murdered, he knew he couldn’t leave her alone, not while Fenris remained cold and distant in her most desperate hour.

One night, Athena came storming into the estate, throwing down pieces of her armor as she stomped through the foyer. “That _whore._ That fucking _whore._ ” She kicked the stairwell, a roar of rage spilling from her lips.

“Athena… Nena! Slow down! What happened?” Anders pushed her back from the stairwell, knowing she could inflict a lot of damage on either her house or herself.

“Isabela. I saw that slut leaving Fenris’ mansion, and I heard the things she yelled back at him as she did it. I can’t believe he’s actually _fucking_ her. I can’t believe that tramp would do this to me!” Athena said, the rage seething just below the surface.

Anders gripped her by the shoulders, staring into her eyes. “Calm down, Nena. This is not a personal attack. Just... just try to ignore it.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Athena said as she glared into Anders’ face. “Just ignore the fact that they’re having sex right around the corner from me. Rich, I tell you!”

Anders sighed, releasing his grip on her shoulders and shrugging. “It was just a suggestion.” He weighed his options for a moment, debating the suggestion he was about to make before proceeding anyway. “By the way, Varric is hosting some Wicked Grace tonight. I think getting out of the house to do something _besides_ kill people would be good for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only if you buy the drinks.”

* * *

Athena threw her Wicked Grace hand down on the table and frowned. She had just lost her third hand in a row and her drink was empty—she didn’t imagine how much worse this night could get. She hailed the Hanged Man’s server and ordered another excuse for ale. “You going to deal again, Varric?”

“Sure, Hawke.” Varric gathered the cards and dealt again.

Isabela leaned across Fenris to gather her cards, making sure to rub her ample breasts over the bare skin on his arm. She appeared to whisper something in the elf’s ear and Athena watched a smile curl the edge of his lip. _The same one he used to give me._

Throughout the round, Isabela grew more bold with Fenris, leading to her draping herself across his lap as she stroked her fingertips over his stomach. He protested, but only because she could see his hand in her precarious position.

Athena’s stomach twisted at Isabela’s lack of shame. “Can’t you two just... go fuck each other somewhere else?” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re one to talk,” Fenris glared at he as he twisted a bit of Isabela’s hair in his fingers, which brought out a purr from the Rivaini woman. “Seeing as how you spend every waking moment with that apostate. Did you even wait for your bed to grow cold before you invited him into it?”

Anders bristled, but Athena raised her hand. “Anders does not sleep in my bed. He stays at my house because he was there for me when you couldn’t be bothered to be. You abandoned me, Fenris, in what turned out to be my greatest moment of need.”

Fenris cocked his head to the side a small amount as his eyes narrowed. “I don’t follow you.”

“I lost a child, Fenris. _Your_ child.”

A somber silence fell over the table, and Fenris pushed Isabela away to encourage her to sit back up in her own chair. “I had no idea, Athena. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Athena let out a single bitter, sarcastic laugh. “You weren’t even speaking to me, Fenris. How was I to find a way to break down your walls and open up to you? You walked out of my house. You made something I saw as a potential long-term relationship into a one-night stand. I didn’t exactly feel great about it already, and then to find you got me _pregnant?_ Not only that, but to find out the day I figured out I was pregnant that I’d _lost_ it already?”

Fenris’ eyes were cast down at the table in shame. “How long ago did you...?”

“That was a year ago.” She threw her cards down on the table and downed the last of her ale in a few long draws. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

* * *

Fenris stared after Athena as she walked away, a dumbfounded look on his face.

Anders snorted. “You know she cried every night for three weeks over that? Just when she finally got over you leaving her like that, her mother was murdered. And yet, you ignored her and moved onto Isabela without even talking to her.”

Fenris opened his mouth to respond, to defend himself again Anders’ accusations, but the mage shook his head. “I would have stepped aside gladly to allow you to assume your duties. I’m not the one she wants, Fenris.” He stood up and added his own cards to Athena’s pile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go do your job again.”

Fenris scowled at Anders, but did not argue. The mage had a point; he’d never even tried to talk with Athena after walking out of her bedroom that hot summer night. A lot of stress could have been avoided if he hadn’t been so damn stubborn. He pushed himself back from the table.

“Where are you going, sweets?” Isabela said, purring as she reached out to pull Fenris back down into his chair.

“Stop it, Isabela.” He turned on his heel, stomping toward the door. He would sort this out tonight. He set out toward the Amell estate.

When he arrived, he slipped in the front door and stopped short when he saw Anders and Athena talking. He stayed motionless and silent, opting to observe for now.

“Calm down, Nena!” Anders wrung his hands as Athena stomped back and forth across the floor of the foyer. “You know he’s not worth this much stress.”

Fenris bristled at this assessment, but held his tongue.

Athena threw her hands up in the air. “You don’t know how it is. He drives me crazy, but I still want to be with him... I don’t know if I can ever trust him again. It’s hard, Anders, and I hate it.”

“You don’t have to forgive him if you don’t want to.” Anders said, his quiet voice still echoing through the large space.

Fenris moved out into the foyer proper, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did you mean that, Athena?”

Athena stopped dead in her tracks and her head whipped around to meet Fenris’ eyes. “I... yes, Fenris. I did.”

“There is nothing I can do to make this up to you?”

She shook her head a fraction of an inch, biting back tears. “I don’t know, Fenris. Not right now, but...”

“I understand.” Fenris turned to walk out the door and glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Anders pulling her sobbing form into a tight embrace.

It felt like his heart fell into the pit of his stomach.


End file.
